Together
by Faye Dartmouth
Summary: We go together, Dean, it's just a question of where. A oneshot about Sam and Dean and unconditional love.


**Summary: **"We go together, Dean, it's just a question of where." A story about Sam and Dean and unconditional love.

**A/N: **Wow, this is--what, my second fic this week? Behold the power of spring break... Anyway, this springs from Dean's revelation to Sam that what he really wants is to be a family again and Sam's revelation that Dean needs him more than he ever realized. Sam says he still wants to leave this life, but as the brothers face this demon down, I think they're going to face a lot of the demons that are within them. And in that, I think Sam will come to recognize the "selfishness" that let him go to college and just how much he loves his brother. Lots of explanation for a pretty short story. Thanks, as always, to Cati. I'm running out of ways to thank you and that's making me realize that more and more of it you already know :) Anyway, I always promised myself I'd write a happy ending fic for the boys and this is the best I could come up with, though there is something oddly depressing about it still...

**Disclaimer: **Sigh...I am not deluded enough to think these are mine.

**Together**

They buried their father that day, and finally buried their mother as well.

"It's over, Dean," Sam said.

Dean nodded. The loss of his parents numbed him but he still remembered Sammy's words. _When this is over, you have to let me go my own way._ "Yeah."

Sam pursed his lips, staring out over the cemetery in the Kansas afternoon. "It's finally over."

Dean' s heart was already broken; he wasn't sure he could stand it breaking again.

Sam sighed, and Dean watched the struggle in his brother's features, the longing and the need – so palpable, Dean could feel them as readily as though they were his own.

Dean held his breath, waiting for the blow that he had been dreading ever since Sam came back to him, since Sam's presence had given him the delusion of unity.

But Sam looked at him, a flicker of something Dean couldn't quite define in his eyes, and said, "Let's go."

Dean didn't question it. He was too surprised. Sam held his gaze a minute longer before he started moving back, back toward the Impala parked a few feet away.

Dean stood by his parents' graves, watching him, wondering where he was going, what he was doing.

Sam opened the door and slid in.

Dean dared to breathe again, and he cocked his head curiously.

"You coming?" Sam asked. "We should be out of Kansas before nightfall."

Dean followed, digging the keys out of his pocket, wondering by what miracle Sam had stayed.

**00000000**

In the weeks that passed, Dean watched his brother closely, looking for clues, for hints, for signs.

What he saw instead was a steadiness in Sam he had never seen before.

They didn't talk about their father; they didn't talk about what had happened. They didn't really talk at all. Just snippets, moments of meaningless exchange.

"You hungry?"

"Yeah."

"We'll pull off at the next stop."

They didn't know where they were going, but they were going there together.

Dean was tentative still, though, not sure if this was a permanent thing. They still hadn't figured out what to say, how talk about any of it, and Dean figured Sam could just be waiting for closure.

Sometimes when his brother looked at him, his hazel eyes were sad. But then they dimmed, slipping away, until the nothingness returned.

**00000000**

Closure never came. It had been six months and they were sitting in a McDonald's outside of Louisville when Sam said, "I thought it would be something more."

Dean just looked at him over his Big Mac, his mouth poised to bite. He let his hands drop to the table, returned the burger to his tray, and he looked at his brother.

Sam was staring out the window, at the interstate that stretched, endless, in front of them. "You know?"

Dean just stared at him, trying to find the words, not really sure, but trying to understand. "Yeah. I know."

**00000000**

A haunting in Delaware. A poltergeist in Reno. A mysterious string of maulings in North Dakota. They logged thousands of miles, spent hundreds of hours side by side, and exchanged mere dozens of words.

**00000000**

"Why are you here, Sam?"

Sam just cocked his head, looking at his brother curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Why are you here? Why are you here with me?" Dean asked again.

Sam's confusion was genuine. "Where else would I be, Dean?"

"It's over!" Dean exploded. "It's all over. We've killed it--the thing that killed Mom, the thing that killed Jessica. You can go now."

Sam seemed to remember and he almost smiled. "I know."

Frustrated by Sam's calm demeanor, Dean demanded, "So why don't you leave already? Go back to your normal life, the thing you've always wanted!"

For the first time in months, Sam really looked at him, and beyond the nothingness in his brother's gaze, Dean recognized something almost imperceptible. "I already broke your heart once, Dean. I can't do it again. I won't. You don't realize it, but you taught me what love was--you showed me that it's selfless. It's not about what I want, or what I need. If you love someone, it's about what they need."

Sam had exhausted their conversation, spending all the daily quota of words in one blow. Dean just stared at him, looked at him, closed his mouth and kept going.

**00000000**

Possessions in Georgia, a banshee in Washington.

Dean did most of the driving; Sam sat in the passenger's seat and stared out across America, a dullness slowly overtaking his soul. Dean could see it happening, but didn't know how to stop it, didn't know how to change it.

So he decided to give it another mile or two, another hunt or two, another lifetime or two.

**00000000**

"You have to leave, Sam."

Sam shook his head. "I can't. Not until you do."

"Don't make put a bullet in my head to get you away from me."

"Your body won't hit the ground before there's a bullet in mine too."

Dean swore. Their greatest bargaining chip with each other was their own lives. "Sam, you can't do this! You can't stay!"

"But isn't that what you want?"

"No, Sam!"

"But you said-"

"I can't want it when it's killing you. I can't want something that's making you unhappy."

"Neither can I."

"So what do we do?"

"We go together, Dean, it's just a question of where."

**00000000**

A hunt went bad in Arkansas and Dean wound up with a broken leg. But as he sat by Sam, who had broken a lot more, Dean remembered. _You taught me what love was--you showed me that it's selfless._

They were playing a game of tug and war with their lives and souls and this time Sam won by pulling Dean to safety. Dean had always believed that love was in the physical things, that he showed it to Sam by saving him and that Sam returned the favor by saving him back.

But this wasn't what it was about. Dean understood that now. He had always given up everything for his brother, in more ways than he understood. And now Sam was giving it back to him with his continual presence, giving Dean the only semblance of family he would ever have again. _It's not about what I want, or what I need_.

If Sam woke up, things would be different, things would have to be different, because for the first time he understood how much he loved his brother.

**00000000**

Dean didn't read the papers anymore, wouldn't even watch the news. He just worked his job and came home.

Home was a two-story colonial in the suburbs of Milwaukee. It had four spacious bedrooms, enough for his three growing children.

His wife didn't notice that he was different. She just loved him and that was all that mattered.

Dean spent his weekends playing with his children, spending time with his wife. Sometimes at night, though, he wouldn't sleep and instead would sit downstairs in the living room, staring out the window into the darkness and wondering what evil was out there, just beyond his reach.

He saw a light flicker across the street though the darkness and silence. He saw the figure moving rhythmically across the window, a baby in his arms. Even from across the street, Dean could see the love on the father's face, as he held the baby to his shoulder and stood by the window, staring back at him. _We go together, Dean._

Sometimes, Dean thought he could almost see Sam smile, but then the baby would cry again, and Sam would resume his soothing pacing, and Dean would watch as the baby was lulled back to sleep in his brother's arms.

And he smiled, knowing that all the darkness didn't matter, would never matter again. Because all of the darkness in the world couldn't squelch the light he had found.


End file.
